


Super Birthday Machines

by disgustiphage



Category: Homestuck, The Felt - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgustiphage/pseuds/disgustiphage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggs gets Clover to help him find the best birthday present for his best pal, Biscuits!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Birthday Machines

**Author's Note:**

> A slight rework of a tumblr "5 sentence prompt" that went a tad beyond 5 sentences.

 

   “What is this stuff?” Eggs asked Clover as the viscous, gray substance covered his hands. “It’s kinda ticklish!”

   With Biscuits’ birthday around the corner, Eggs had taken to begging and pestering the rest of the Felt, looking for someone, anyone, to help him pick out the perfect present. It wasn't as if the two of them were particularly beloved amongst their team, but it wasn't as if Eggs would quit any time soon, either. Eventually, it was Clover who decided to take him to the bazaar, after much bargaining amongst the rest of the Felt.

   “I dunno,” Clover said with a shrug. He rose up on the tips of his toes to read read the sign, outloud: _Nanomachines — make great pets!_   With a sardonic laugh, he added, “word of advice: maybe don’t stick your fingers into every barrel we pass by!”

   Eggs raised his arms from the barrel, the strange, gray goop clinging relentlessly. Only with vigorous shaking did it fall away, unfortunately, taking his hands with them. All that remained at the ends of his wrists were clean stumps. Eggs stared at them, dismayed.

   The man behind the table chuckled. “Yeah, the ‘lil buggers’ll do that. Means they like you. How many barrels can I write you up for, champ?”

   Eggs’ frown reversed instantly. “Perfect! I’ll take like, five!” he said as Clover tugged on his pantleg, urging him away from the booth.

   “C’mon, Eggsy. Let’s go home and talk to Stitch. Y’know, you’re lucky you got me to help you!”

 

    Reluctantly, Eggs acquiesced, assuring the salesman that he’d be back later.


End file.
